Quirk of a Dark Lord
by ShadeDancer
Summary: Every Dark Lord has some quirk or another, here are Voldemorts. Sorta Slashy, no real pairings.
1. Monday

One-shot inspired by late night conversation and cold medicine. This was one of the tamer ideas and just begged to be written.

_ShadeDancer_

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Harry Potter.

Monday

Voldemort sat straight and prim upon his throne, posture perfect even as his right foot tapped impatiently upon the blood-soaked stones at his feet. It was a Monday, all the Death Eaters knew that they met exactly at one o'clock when they had meetings on Mondays, but Lucius was late. Voldemort did not like to be kept waiting. The gathered Death Eaters grew increasingly nervous as the seconds continued to tick past and Lucius still did not show. They all knew that the curses would start flying the moment the aristocratic blond arrived and many hoped to escape their Master's notice should the Dark Lord decide that he wasn't satisfied with cursing just Lucius.

"Where is Lucius!" Voldemort was definitely irritated, the corner of one eye ticking slightly, "he's—"

The giant doors to the throne room swept open, halting Voldemort before he could get too much more worked up. Silhouetted in the crack between the doors stood a very regal Lucius Malfoy, looking as elegant as always with not a single hair out of place.

"_CRUCIO_!"

The curse flew towards Lucius and hit the unaware Malfoy scion, doubling the man over, but not even this satisfied Voldemort and he increased the power of the curse until Lucius lay twitching on the floor. After what seemed to be an eternity, the Dark Lord finally let up on the curse and Lucius made his painful way to his feet.

"I'm sorry my Lord," it attested to Lucius' will that he could still get the words out.

"You are late," Voldemort interrupted before any excuse could be offered up for tardiness, "and you are not properly attired."

Lucius finally managed to raise his eyes from the ground and take in the sight of his fellow Death Eaters assembled around the table in the throne room. His eyes widened in realization.

"It's Monday," he groaned at his mistake and dropped to his knees to beg for forgiveness from his Master, heedless of his clothes, "I'm sorry my Lord, I have mistaken the days. I though it was a Tuesday."

"No, Lucius," Voldemort's good mood seemed to be returning a bit as he addressed Lucius like one would an errant child, "it is Monday today."

"Forgive me, my Lord," Lucius begged as much as a Malfoy ever would.

Voldemort sighed and waved Lucius to his feet, indicating that it was alright for him to take his usual seat of honor at his right hand, "I will forgive you this time Lucius, but only because your presence pleases me."

"Thank you, my Lord," Lucius gratefully took his accustomed seat.

Voldemort waved off the grateful Malfoy, "just see to it that it doesn't happen again. Now, pour the tea before it gets cold and I have to send the house-elves for a new pot."

Lucius did as the Dark Lord commanded and Wormtail slowly edged his way out from where he had hid under the table the moment Voldemort had thrown the first curse. Voldemort shot Wormtail a slightly worried look.

"Are you alright Wormtail, you look a bit pale?" Voldemort's voice could almost be said to hold concern, "oh dear, your bonnet has gone crooked. Allow me to fix that for you, my dear."

Wormtail paled even further as Voldemort leaned across the table to fiddle with the frilly pink bonnet he was wearing. All down the table the Death Eaters quickly began to check that their bonnets were straight so as to avoid the gaze of their Master and his fussing should anything not be perfect to his liking. A few braver souls even dared stand long enough to smooth the skirts of their pretty pink tea-party dresses, making sure their stockings were straight and the lace on their outfits weren't crushed. McNair even treated them to the sight of him picking his frilly underwear wedgie, an action that earned him a cruciatus curse, but they finally all settled down around the table with napkins in their laps to protect their dresses from spills and crumbs. With a practiced flourish Lucius finished pouring and passing out the last cup of tea, this one the Dark Lord's, and Voldemort daintily began to sip at his tea between bites of scone and bits of conversation.

"An excellent tea Lucius," he was saying, "you do know how to play the hostess quiet well, it's just a shame that you aren't dressed properly."

"Again, I am sorry my Lord." Lucius knew he would be repeating the phrase quite often that afternoon.

Voldemort waved him off, "just pay more attention the next time and do be careful not to get that lovely evening gown dirty, it's quite stunning and I hope to see you wear it again next Tuesday when we have the ball."

"Yes Master," Lucius wiped an imaginary crumb off of the gown to please the Dark Lord, knowing that the dark blue offset his hair and stormy grey eyes perfectly, "and if you still wished, I have no problem in allowing you the use of the dark green gown you found so attractive the other week."

"Really?" Voldemort was pleased, "I was wondering how it would appear with my complexion—_crucio_—pinky out Crabbe! And sip at the tea, don't slurp like an uncivilized ape! The same goes for you as well Goyle!"

Voldemort turned back to Lucius, "now where were we? Oh, yes! I was wondering if you have had any luck convincing Harry to join us for out little get-togethers? I would dearly love to see the boy in an evening gown, perhaps one similar to the one you are wearing today, though I think we would have to allow an exception to the pink rule on Tea days. I couldn't see Harry being all that comfortable in pink."

Lucius made a negative noise in the back of his throat, "no, pink wouldn't suit the boy at all, though I think Draco would look lovely in it given the right shade. Unfortunately, Harry won't be able to make it this week or next week either. I haven't asked about the week after yet."

Voldemort was genuinely disappointed, "that's a shame. Dumbledore is keeping that boy way too busy. You would think they were fighting a war or something. Oh well, just keep extending the invitations and we'll hope he finally has the time to accept. Have you tried this scone yet? There are little chocolates in them."

* * *

Posted On: March 12, 2006  
Revised: November 3, 2007


	2. Tuesday, Part 1

Decided that Monday needed a sequel or two, so here's the first part of it. I was going to wait until I had the whole sequel written, but then realized that it was taking me forever and I hadn't posted anything in a while.

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Harry Potter, will never own Harry Potter, wouldn't dream of—wait, never mind, I do dream of it.

_Tuesday, Part 1_

Harry stared in resignation at the neatly penned invitation that lay on the Weasley's kitchen table before him, it had arrived just the night before but he hadn't had the privacy to read it. Didn't Lucius Malfoy ever give up? This had to have been the eleventh letter the elder Malfoy had sent him in two and a half weeks. The first invitation had made him wary, putting him on guard for some sort of trap or joke at his expense and he had immediately showed the letter to Dumbledore. There had been no traps to be found upon the parchment, no portkeys attatched, and upon the Headmasters suggestion Harry had ignored the missive. The second letter Harry had viewed as a mind game and had politely replied on a whim, declining to attend seeing how Dumbledore was keeping him busy training. It had been the later invitations that had Harry believing that in some twisted way Lucius was being serious and really did want him over for tea, promising that no harm would befall him. He still wasn't nutters enough to accept though. Harry read the letter over again.

_Dearest Harry, _

_I sincerely hope that this letter finds you in good health, seeing how Albus seems to be putting you through your paces. You would think the man is preparing for a war, to read your letters. He simply must allow you some time off to join our soirée tomorrow. We won't take no for an answer. My lord has high hopes to see you there and extends his warmest regards. _

_Truly yours, Lucius Malfoy_

With a sudden movement Harry had the letter crumpled in his hand and sailing across the short distance to the fireplace. This had gone on long enough and he had been a fool in the first place to reply and encourage Lucius. Of course, he hadn't thought of it as any more than a joke and so hadn't seen the harm in replying to see how Tom or Lucius would react. Now, from the tone of the letters, you wouldn't think that Lucius Malfoy was his second biggest enemy—the man actually seemed worried that he was training so hard, and not because they would be fighting against each other. Harry shook his head as if to clear it. If Lucius and Tom had been doing this to bugger with his head then they had certainly succeeded, but Harry was all too afraid that these invitations were seriously real. A creak on the stairs had Harry swiftly turning to see who was coming down to the kitchen this early in the morning, habit having his hand on his wand despite the fact that it could only be one of the Weasley's. It was Molly.

"Oh, Harry dear," she exclaimed as she saw him there staring at her, "you gave me a start. What are you doing down here so early dear? Couldn't you sleep? Is anything the matter?"

Harry managed a wiry grin as he stood, "everything is fine Mrs. Weasley, I just woke up a bit early this morning."

"Alright then dear," Mrs. Weasley smiled back at him as she moved towards the stove with a soft hum, "you just sit tight then and I'll have some breakfast ready for you in a jiffy. We need to get some meat on your bones, you're too skinny."

Obediently Harry sat back down, feeling slightly uncomfortable for having lied about nothing being wrong. Molly had spent the summer mothering him like he was one of her own and he knew she would worry if he told her that Lucius had continued sending him letters. He also wanted to avoid telling her that he had written back, he knew her temper all too well and didn't relish being on the receiving end of it. Harry just hoped that by keeping silent he wouldn't be bringing trouble down upon the Weasley family. He didn't think he was, but then this situation was far from normal. Dark Lords just didn't invite their mortal enemies to tea parties, it just wasn't done.

… … … … …

"I am sorry My Lord," Lucius Malfoy abased himself at the feet of Lord Voldemort, "but I have received no reply to the invitation I sent to Harry about Tuesday's party."

Voldemort actually looked worried, "do you think the invitation was intercepted. I would not put it past Albus to do so. He's working that boy way too hard."

"I do not know, My Lord. What would you like me to do?" Lucius didn't dare raise his head and meet the Dark Lord's eyes incase he found a sudden anger there, "Should I send another invitation?"

"No." Voldemort had a plan of action worked out in his mind already, "we have already seen that mere invitations do not work. You shall fetch Harry early tomorrow morning so that he can have a chance to relax before the soiree. I will not accept no for an answer; I am determined that Harry will join us and have a good time despite Albus' protests against his attendance."

"As you will it My Lord," Lucius finally dared get up off the floor, knowing he was being dismissed to prepare for his task, "I will see that it is done."

Lucius had almost made it to the doors before Voldemort called out to him, "and make sure you pick out something for Harry to wear that brings out the light in those startling green eyes. Something made for a male, but with a slight hint of effeminate style to it that will accent that fey air about him. I'm counting on you to make sure everything is perfect and our guest enjoys himself."

Lucius resisted the urge to swallow uneasily at the almost impossible task, he knew how hard it was to please Voldemort's sense of style, and bowed before making his exit from the room a bit more hastily than before.

… … … … …

By the next morning Harry was nearly screaming in frustration as he found himself mentally composing yet another reply to the letter Lucius had sent to him just yesterday. True, there hadn't really been anything to answer in that invitation beyond whether he would attend the soiree today or not, but most of Lucius' other letters were full of a witty repertoire that Harry enjoyed replying to. There were times Harry almost found himself thinking of Lucius as a friend until he remembered just who it was that Lucius served.

Harry turned the other way to pace back across the Weasley's garden, but froze abruptly so that his foot came down oddly on the uneven ground. There stood the Malfoy scion, dressed impeccably as always in a dark gray silk robe that accented his aristocratic features and proud bearing.

"Lu-Lucius." He stammered the name in surprise, it seemed wrong to call the man Mr. Malfoy. "What—what are you doing here?"

The elder Malfoy smiled at him welcomingly, "I've come to take you to the festivities today. My Lord has decided that no is not an acceptable answer and sent me to fetch you."

"But—"

Harry didn't know what to do; it was early morning because he had been unable to sleep and none of the other Weasley's were up yet so calling out would do no good. Using magic was out of the question as well since he stupidly didn't have his wand on him—he should have known better than to put so much faith in the wards Dumbledore said were around the Weasley's house to keep him safe. Lucius took a step forward towards him and Harry nearly took an involuntary step back.

"No buts," Lucius smoothly grabbed his right hand and slipped a ring on his finger, "it's time to go."

The portkey worked as all others did, jerking Harry roughly behind the navel before he could protest and making him feel nauseous as he traveled from one point to another. The moment the portkey deposited them in their location mere seconds later Harry buckled to the ground, knees striking the stone floor of their destination hard and he felt ready to retch. They had discovered just last year by freak accident that he was allergic to portkey travel of all things, somehow it imbalanced his magic and made him physically ill. A cool hand placed itself over his brow to smooth back his hair quickly.

"Harry?" It was Lucius, worry clouding his voice. "Are you alright?"

Harry continued to remain on his hands and knees, breath panting in and out as he literally felt his magic roll within him. He was almost too sick and pissed off at the older man to answer, but knew he had to incase he got any worse.

"Allergic," Harry gasped out, "portkey."

Talking proved to be too much for him at that point and Harry barely managed to turn his head away from the kneeling figure beside him before he began to vomit, gagging up bile as his magic attempted to find some outlet for the upheaval it was going through. Harry didn't know what he expected then, but it certainly wasn't for Lucius Malfoy to stroke his hair and rub soothing circles on his back until he finished heaving and he certainly wasn't expecting the older man to actually pick him up and carry him to a bed where cool sheets awaited his suddenly overheated body. Then Lucius was gone, only to return with a chilled glass of some liquid that he coaxed him into drinking. Sleep rushed in to greet Harry.

… … … … …

"I thought I told you to bring Harry immediately to me upon arrival!"

"He was ill, My Lord," Lucius reported almost fearfully, "a bad reaction to portkey travel."

Worriedly Voldemort mused over this little turn of events as he allowed his anger to calm, "how serious is it? do you think we should postpone this evening's entertainment? It wouldn't do to be celebrating when our guest of honor is ill."

"I do not know, My Lord," Lucius kept his head bowed, knowing that Voldemort did not want to postpone the ball that night now that Harry was finally here, "I administered one of Severus' healing potions to him and it seemed that his magic was already calming. Perhaps after some rest he shall be up to attending."

"Yes, rest. It will be your job to see to it that Harry is well rested and ready by this evening. Perhaps some pampering would not be amiss either. See to it Lucius. You shall be his escort for the evening and I trust you to make sure that Harry does not overtax himself. Now, I need to ready myself. I leave everything in your capable hands."

When Lucius looked up as Voldemort finally left his presence, there was a gleeful glint in the steel-grey eyes. Pampering the little fey-like creatures upstairs would not be difficult at all and perhaps he would indulge in a little pampering himself. He was long overdue for a little personal time, but he would gladly allow Harry to share that time with him; the boy had intrigued him greatly during their correspondence and he was relishing the time to have an actual conversation with his penpal. Quickly Lucius hurried from the room—there was much to arrange and only a little time in which to do it.

* * *

Posted On: September 16, 2006  
Revised: November 3, 2006


	3. Tuesday, Part 2

Sorry this took so long and please excuse any errors, I didn't go over it as closely as I normally would. It has been rough these past few months and just this week we finally lost my sister to cancer.

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Harry Potter, will never own Harry Potter, wouldn't dream of—wait, never mind, I do dream of it.

_Tuesday, Part 2_

Lucius sighed at the thought of waking the peacefully sleeping Harry even though the sleep was aided by one of Severus' potions, but what he had planned would probably be even better for the boy than more sleep. Carefully Lucius perched on the edge of the bed, watching that he didn't wrinkle his robes or look less than perfect—it wouldn't do for him to make any more bad impressions on Harry; though to his credit, he hadn't know the Gryffindor was allergic to portkeys.

"Harry," he called softly, daring to shake the boys shoulder slightly to pull him out of the substance induced slumber, "you need to wake up Harry."

A reluctant mumble answered him and Lucius wondered if Harry was usually this hard to wake up, or if it was because of the potion.

"Come on Harry," Lucius coaxed in the same manner he often used with Draco, "we need to see if your magic has stabilized or if you need another potion. I also have a wonderful surprise planned for you, but you have to wake up."

For a moment longer Harry's eyes remained shut and then without warning he bolted upright, a wand whipping out to point at the hollow of Lucius' chin. Lucius hadn't been expecting such a violent reaction but managed to hold himself still, afraid to move until the sleep befuddled boy regained his bearings enough to remove the wand from his throat. Harry blinked and slowly lowered the wand in his hand.

"Lucius?"

It was a question full of disbelief and Lucius realized that Harry was probably really disoriented right now as the boy gaped at him.

"Are you feeling better?"

That simple question started a flood of Harry's own before the boy suddenly cut off and stared at his hands with an odd look on his face.

"What am I doing here? Where am I? How did I get here? Who's—"

Lucius sighed, "I carried you here to my guest chambers because you needed to rest after your reaction to the portkey. Now, how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," Harry answered slowly as if contemplating something else.

"That's good," relief lay in Lucius' voice, surprisingly genuine to Harry's ears, "though most of the credit has to go to Severus' skill with potions. I don't know what I could have done if I hadn't found the allergy medicine."

Harry nodded, "I've owed my life to some of his potions before. I just wish he would make them taste better, but I know better than to hold out hope."

With a laugh, Lucius stood abruptly and pulled Harry to his feet, steadying the younger man when he swayed slightly, "Severus thinks potions have to taste nasty to work right, that man can't have any taste buds left if he ever uses his own concoctions. Now come on, we can talk about all sorts of things while you see your surprise."

Harry actually surprised himself by following willingly, but at the doorway he stopped. Looking down at his right hand, Harry made what might prove to be a terrible decision later on.

"Here," Harry held out the hand that clutched Lucius' wand, not knowing why he was actually giving up his only weapon, "when you startled me awake I grabbed for my wand, but since mine wasn't there I ended up with yours instead."

"Thank you," Lucius didn't seem to know how to respond other than that and beckoned Harry on with an imperial wave of his hand, "but we're wasting time standing here. Come on!"

… … … … …

"Ohhhh," Harry moaned, he had given up on pretending that he wasn't enjoying himself, "this is heaven, Lucius."

"Isn't it though," Lucius smirked in pleasure, "Crabbe and Goyle have always been good with their hands. I've never met a masseuse who could match their skill yet and both have taught their sons well."

"I'll have to look them up when I go back to Hogwarts next week," Harry commented, earning pleased grins from the two Death Eaters as they continued to ply their trade, "if they're half as good as you are, it'll be worth ignoring house boundaries for the chance to get a good massage. None of the Gryffindors know how to give a decent backrub."

"We haven't even begun yet, Harry," Lucius was in his element, "Lindsay Parkinson's coming in a bit, she has this excellent facial treatment you have to try, and Narcissa will fix your hair up a bit while Bellatrix and McNair give you a manicure and pedicure. Then we'll raid my closet for the perfect outfit for you. I have these forest green robes that'll look gorgeous on you, they're much too masculine for me, but on you they'll be divine. You've gained some height since I last saw you, so I don't think we'll have to do any real alteration despite the fact that you're thinner than I am; the robes are mean to be loose."

With a bemused smile Harry let Lucius ramble on as he drifted off slightly, ignoring the slight twinge of conscious that he felt at allowing himself to be pampered by his enemies, one of whom was the one who had murdered his godfather. He was just so tired lately; tired of training, tired of fighting, tired of never having anything for himself anymore. Just this once he would allow himself to have something, to have something to hold onto when the Headmaster's training became endless and he was pushed past his physical and mental limits. The only problem he could see in all this was being able to go back and view Lucius and the others as his enemies when they met in battle. He didn't think he would be able to and wondered if this was what Tom had hoped for when he began sending the invitations in the first place. Harry sighed, he would cross that hurdle when he came to it; he hadn't even seen the Dark Lord yet. For all he knew Tom was currently planning his demise and the dress robes Lucius were currently describing would become his funeral wear. Harry's right hand clenched as he briefly wished that his wand was there with him, but there was nothing he could do about it now, he could only go forward with the evening and be prepared for whatever might come.

… … … … …

Harry clenched his fingers into the fine fabric of the unfamiliar dress robes and then smoothed the small creases he had made back out. He couldn't help it, he was nervous as he stood there arm-in-arm with Lucius and waiting to be announced so that they could enter the ballroom.

"It'll be fine," Lucius assured him, "you'll be fine. No one will fault you for any social misunderstanding. We're all friends here. It will be much like the Yule Ball Hogwarts hosted back in your fourth year."

"Oh great," Harry managed to find it somewhere in him to be sarcastic, "now I really feel reassured."

Lucius opened his mouth to say something, probably to ask for clarification on Harry's comment, but just then they were announced.

"Lord Harold Black-Potter and Lord Lucius Malfoy," the announcer's tones rang out and the soft rumble of voices from within the ball room immediately stilled.

Awkwardly Harry led Lucius in as he had been instructed, finding it strange to be escorting another man as he would a female into a formal dance. Just as Harry had expected every eye was on them as they entered the room and he began to lead Lucius in a dance as he had been instructed, other couples gracefully falling in around them. Harry allowed himself to be swept away in the dance, not daring to focus on anyone but Lucius as they moved about the room for he instinctively knew that if he looked up he would find himself looking straight at the Dark Lord and that was one confrontation he was not ready for.

Yet all too soon the initial dance was over and Harry found himself being regally escorted to the slightly raised dais where Voldemort sat wearing a pair of effeminate dress robes that Harry shrewdly guessed had come from Lucius' closet. Instinctively Harry stiffened his back and waited for the punch line of his invitation to the ball, he wasn't prepared for Voldemort to actually stand and give him a small curtsey. Only by Lucius' prompting was Harry able to execute an awkward bow in return.

"I'm so glad you were finally able to accept my invitation," Voldemort said, gesturing for Harry to sit in the chair next to his own, "I had begun to worry that you would never be able to make it."

Over the next few hours Harry found himself forgetting that Voldemort—Tom—was his enemy as they enjoyed the fancy little snacks provided by the house-elves and talked about whatever came to mind, taking the occasional break so that Harry could dance with various people. It was near the end of the night when Severus Snape made his move and asked Harry to dance, easily taking the lead as he steered Harry to where they wouldn't be overheard.

"You've caused quite a stir, Potter," Snape's breath ghosted against his ear, "both here and with the Order. What kind of a game are you playing?"

"Who said I'm playing a game, sir?" Harry was finding the closeness unnerving in a way he hadn't when dancing with any of the others.

Snape gave him an unfathomable look and discreetly slipped Harry his wand, warning, "be very careful with your actions and think how they will be interpreted by either side. You are treading on thin ice by accepting this invitation whether willingly or not."

Harry had a feeling that Snape would have said more, but just then Tom stood and the music halted, forcing them apart as propriety dictated.

"It has grown late," Tom announced, "and it is time for the final dance of the evening. Harry, I would be honored if you would chose to share it with me."

Seeing that there was no good reason not to, he hadn't danced with Tom at all that evening; Harry moved back towards the dais and escorted Tom onto the dance floor. Together they gracefully executed the moves to a slow waltz, Harry mentally thanking Lucius' earlier tutelage, both silent throughout until the music drew to a close.

"Thank you for coming this evening," Tom drew back and allowed Lucius to transfer himself onto Harry's arm, "I had an enjoyable time talking with you. Lucius will escort you to the room that's been prepared for you and before you protest, it's too late for you to make your way home tonight. I will hopefully see you in the morning for breakfast."

With a sigh Harry realized that Tom was right and for a brief moment wondered if his earlier doubts had been correct and he was being made into a prisoner. Unerringly Harry's hand went to the wand secreted in his pocket, but he did not draw it or call attention to the fact that he now had his wand as he let Lucius show him to a very luxurious room. Once alone Harry removed the dress robes he had worn and changed into the waiting set of pajamas, deciding that there wasn't a point in doing anything that night and he climbed into the bed after resisting the urge to try the door to see if it was locked. As he dropped off to sleep Harry realized that he didn't want to know if he was a prisoner or not, he wanted everything that had happened to be sincere; he had actually had fun that evening—something that hadn't happened in a long while.

* * *

Posted On: December 3, 2006  
Revised On: November 3, 2007


	4. Wednesday, Part 1

Well, this didn't turn out quite as long a chapter as I had hoped, but I didn't want to start the PJ Party in this chapter or who knows when you'd get an update.

_ShadeDancer_

Disclaimer: _I don't own Harry Potter, Severus currently has the highest bid in that auction._

Wednesday

Harry paused outside of the potions classroom and took an irritable breath, resisting the urge to once again turn and snap at his 'watchers'. Ever since he had arrived back at the Burrow a few weeks ago after Lucius had absconded with him Hermione and Ron had been constantly watching him on Dumbledore's orders, any conversation between them had been strained, and now Tonks was escorting him everywhere between classes. He couldn't even go to the loo by himself without at least one other person standing next to him. They were afraid of him defecting to the other side. Wouldn't it just kill them to know that their behaving like this around him was making him seriously contemplate doing just that? Of course things would have been a lot different if Tom himself hadn't escorted him back to the Burrow the morning after the ball.

_Flashback_

_Harry had found himself awake early the next morning after the ball, the house still silent as everyone else slept off last night's fun. There was no way he would have been able to sleep longer and he was curious about where he was, no one had said he was confined to the room after all, and upon checking the door Harry found it to be unlocked. His wanderings had eventually taken him to the first floor, he hadn't stayed upstairs long for fear of waking any of the sleepers, and not far past the ballroom he found a comfortable study. He had also found Voldemort—Tom._

_"Good morning Harry," Tom motioned him into the chair next to his own and poured him a cup of tea, "I trust you slept well? I'm a bit surprised to find someone your age willingly up so early after such a late night."_

_Carefully Harry took the tea, "I've always been an early riser. And you—uh, did you sleep well?"_

_"Very well."__ Tom gave him a small smile, "I'm glad you were able to join us yesterday, it made the evening so much more enjoyable."_

_"Yeah, about that—" Harry was a little nervous, "Lucius sort of snatched me away without anyone knowing and I really should get back. And Professor Snape saw me here last night, so I don't know what they might be thinking—"_

_"It's alright, Harry," there was sympathy in Tom's eyes, "I understand if you need to leave. I'm not going to hold you here against your will. I would hope that you would considering coming back some other time to visit though."_

_"I—"_

_Tom held up a hand, "don't answer now. Just think on it. If you don't need anything I can send you back now. Since there's no getting Lucius up this early to take you back to the Burrow I'll take you, but we're going to have to travel by portkey so I won't offer you breakfast first. I'd prefer to apparate you back so you wouldn't get ill, but I'm afraid the wards around that whole area are just too well done and extend for a good distance."_

_"Then how come the portkeys work on the property?"_

_Tom smiled, "it was clever on their part, they twisted the wards so that any portkey with your magical signature attached will be able to come and go freely, but it also has its drawbacks as well since at that point anyone can grab you and portkey out. Lucius grumbled about the long walk after his original portkey to the Burrow dropped him off a few miles away and so he took a moment to study the wards to find out why."_

_Harry studied Tom, "how are you planning on leaving then? I highly doubt they'll let you drop in with me and then just walk out as if nothing was wrong."_

_"You think things through and want information, unlike other Gryffindors I've known," Tom was pleased, "and I thank you for worrying about me. I'll be able to use the portkey we take to leave again; your magical signature will still linger on it for about an hour after our trip, it's what enables the ministry to track portkey travel. I'll set the second trip to take me to __London__ where I'll destroy the portkey and then apparate back here. I find myself looking forward to seeing their faces as we pop in, I'm only sorry that the trip will make you sick."_

_"Alright," Harry wasn't sure why he found himself agreeing to the insane plan, but he found himself trusting Tom despite the complications this would most likely end up causing him._

_"Let's go then," Tom had pulled him smoothly up out of the chair, moving around him so that Tom's arms were supporting him, "I'll try and shield you as much as possible. Remember, Harry, you're welcome in my home anytime. No one here will ever judge you."_

_Tom activated the portkey before Harry could answer._

_End Flashback_

Tom's timing couldn't have been better if he had planned it; the two of them had landed in the Weasley's living room while a meeting was going on. For a split second no one did anything but stare and then all hell had broken loose, spells flying everywhere, but Tom was already gone and Harry had found himself falling to the floor without Tom's arms to support him. He had heaved over and over again, everyone pelting him with questions, until finally someone remembered to force a potion down his throat. He hadn't told them much, hadn't had a moment to himself since then, but every time he remembered how Tom had shielded him when they took the portkey he considered it worth it.

Glancing irritably back at the whispering trio of Hermione, Ron, and Tonks, Harry decided that he'd rather enter the potions classroom and deal with Professor Snape instead of staying in the hall with only his watchers. Pushing open the door, Harry only had a second to take in the situation—Tom holding professor Snape at wandpoint—before Tom whirled so that Harry was in the older man's arms, and then that familiar sickening jerk of a portkey had them leaving Hogwarts behind.

… … … … …

Harry landed from the portkey heaving, Tom's arms still wrapped around him to support him.

"Here," Tom held a potion to his lips in between heaves, "this will help. I am sorry it had to be a portkey once again, but until you learn to use your inheritance to pass through Hogwart's wards they are our only option."

Even though Harry still felt like he was going to heave, he managed to send Tom an incredulous look.

"Yes," Tom looked amused, "I did not have a chance to tell you last time, and in truth was not sure you would listen until you had a chance to think over what has happened. I have made you my heir, passing on to you the noble gifts of Slytherin to accent the Ravenclaw blood you inherited from your mother. I shall have plenty of time today to begin teaching you, but the rest you shall have to read up on by yourself back at Hogwarts."

Harry blinked and then blinked again just to make sure the aftereffects of the portkey weren't making him hallucinate, "you're serious?"

"No." Tom's face remained neutral as he made the joke. "That would be your godfather. I am telling you the truth though."

Harry stared in disbelief, though he wasn't sure why he found it so hard to accept that Tom had a sense of humor after his other visit. "I think this requires tea and a complete explanation."

Tom nodded, still supporting Harry. "We have plenty of time before tonight's affair for explanations and lessons. There's already a pot of tea and some biscuits waiting for us in my study. Lucius is very conscientious about things like that, wouldn't let the house-elves prepare the tea when he knew it was to be for you. He was disappointed when I told him he would not be able to greet you until tonight."

Harry wrapped his arm around Tom to make it easier for the other man to help him along, not to mention he actually felt safe like this. "And just what is tonight's affair? Since you didn't give me any warning I highly doubt I have anything I should need."

Tom waved the concerns off as he saw Harry seated comfortable in a chair with a cup of tea to help settle the rest of the after-effects of his portkey induced illness. "Don't worry about tonight's sleepover. Lucius has nice selection of pajamas for you to choose from, they are required. Right now I owe you an explanation and we need to start your lesson."

Bemused, Harry settled back in the chair and decided not to question why the Death Eaters were having a slumber party. At least Tom had specified that pajamas were required—most of the Death Eaters he would really rather not see in their birthday suits. It was disturbing enough just to think about it. Quickly Harry took a sip of his tea, feeling the warm liquid spread through his body and help settle the last of his shakiness.

"Alright." He finally said, knowing that his agreement to learn was an acceptance of what Tom was offering and would be considered a betrayal by the Light side. "Tell me about this inheritance and then let's start the lesson. The sooner I can apparate from Hogwarts, the better. It'll be much simpler if you don't have to kidnap me every time we visit and it'll give me an easy way to escape my watchdogs."

* * *

Posted On: May 11, 2008


	5. Wednesday, Part 2

See, I haven't forgotten this story!

_ShadeDancer_

Disclaimer: _I don't own Harry Potter and can't get money for this, but I can have fun with it._

_Warning: _Some chapters_ (the ones including pranks and mimes) _might not be appropriate to read at work. Laughter may ensue leading your co-workers to see you as even more insane than they previously thought.

Wednesday, Part 2

It was very late in the day when Harry and Tom finally emerged from Tom's study, dark had started to fall, both of them pleased with Harry's initial progress; he was a quick study when he felt like showing his true potential. Lucius was already waiting for them, and a bit impatiently too.

"He's all yours Lucius." Tom announced to the Malfoy scion. "You still have plenty of time to get ready. Don't fret. I'm sure Draco can give you a hand if there are any issues. He is attending tonight, isn't he?"

"Yes my Lord." Neither man seemed to notice Harry's shocked look. "He is changing as we speak and is probably waiting impatiently for Harry and I to return."

Tom made a shooing motion with his hand. "Off with you then. I have to get ready myself."

Harry allowed himself to be pulled along the hallway for a short distance. "Draco's going to be here tonight?"

Lucius nodded, pleased. "Yes. I managed to get him a pass out of the school for the evening. I thought that you might enjoy someone your age being around tonight and Draco has always wanted to attend our little soirees."

Harry couldn't help but wonder if Draco had any clue of what the soirees usually seemed to entail, but decided that the Slytherin must have when Lucius ushered him into his rooms. Draco was there and already in his night attire, sitting at Lucius' vanity brushing his hair.

"Potter." Draco nodded as he rose, putting down the brush and actually smiling. "Are you ready for tonight? I have some pajamas picked out for you to try on since our Lord didn't have the time to warn you to grab your own."

Harry decided to play it civil. "Malfoy."

"Yes?" Lucius had tuned them out when they had walked into the room, intent on looking over the selection of pajamas Draco had set out. "And I thought I had told you to call me Lucius?"

"Well this is certainly going to get confusing." Draco mused. "Perhaps when both father and I are around you should address us by our first names Potter."

Harry sighed; this was definitely going to be odd. "Alright, but only if you call me Harry. I can't call you Draco if you're constantly calling me Potter."

"Deal." Draco smiled at him, actually smiled, and if Harry hadn't gotten used to Lucius being so friendly he might have feared for his life. "Now let's see which set you should wear tonight."

"Not that pair." Lucius admonished Draco as the younger Malfoy picked up the green pajama top. "He wore green to the ball."

Draco discarded the set and shook his head as his father picked up a silver top trimmed in black. "Those are too much like the ones I'm going to wear and looking at Harry I think they'd wash his complexion too much. He's so pale right now."

The two Malfoy's continued to argue over which cut would be fashionable on Harry, which color would or wouldn't work, and Harry left them to it. He highly doubted any imput he gave would be welcome anyhow—he knew his fashion sense was lacking, it was easier to go simple and with things he knew worked.

"The blue set!" Lucius and Draco decreed together. "They'll be perfect."

In short order Harry found himself bathed, thankfully by a house-elf instead of his two current hosts, and dressed in the elegant pajamas. He was starting to feel like a dress-up doll but had to admit that the material felt wonderful against his freshly washed skin, like a whisper of heaven, and the pajamas were thankfully cut for a male figure.

"Our Lord will be most pleased." Lucius stood back to admire his handiwork as Draco took a hairbrush to Harry's messy hair, taming it with a practiced hand. "I've already set out the sleeping bag that matches the pajamas for you, so there's only one more thing to take care of before we join the others."

Harry was confused, not surprising since he had never been to a slumber party before. "What else would we need to do?"

Draco and Lucius stared at him in disbelief. "You need to pick out your stuffed animal of course. It's not a sleepover without something to cuddle with."

"Oh." Harry felt suddenly stupid.

Lucius hurried to set him at ease. "I'm sure you probably had a stuffed animal that you would have preferred to bring, but given the circumstances I arranged for the toy store at Diagon to send a full selection of their animals. Pick whichever one you wish to have and I'll have the others sent back."

Harry felt what he could only suspiciously identify as tears burning in his eyes as he picked through the selection Lucius had arranged for him. He had never before had a stuffed animal, at least not that he remembered, and now he was being given the choice of one. It didn't take Harry long to discover the perfect one for him. It wasn't anything special, it didn't move or make noises like a lot of the other magically embellished stuffed animals, but he couldn't pass over the simple dog. It was small, small enough to fit in his cupped hands, with brown fur mixed with patches of black and droopy ears.

"This one." Harry announced, his voice steady for all the emotion he was suddenly fighting. "I want this one."

Lucius nodded though Draco almost seemed to want to protest and point out one of the larger stuffed animals again. "Very well. I'll have the others sent back promptly. Now we are ready to join the party."

Holding the dog in the crook of one arm Harry plodded along down the hallway with Lucius and Draco—one or the other had produced matching slippers for him as well—arguing about the latest Quidditch match of all things. Outside the door to the room where the sleepover was to take place Harry paused in brief hesitation, this was the last moment he could make an excuse to back out, but then the bit of him that was still a Gryffindor prodded him on to have fun while he could.

'_Please dear Merlin just let them all be decently covered_.' Harry thought as he was ushered through the doors into a room full of different colored sleeping bags. He soon realized that staying at the Weasley's had never even come close to preaparing him for a real sleepover, at least not one of this magnitude.

The rest of the evening became a blur of party games, mock duels, and food. Stories were told, songs were sung, and dares thrown out to challenge any takers. Harry had thrown himself into it all with an abandon that surprised even him and he found that he and Draco had a lot more in common than he had even expected. Now hours later as everyone lay asleep around him he couldn't help but curse himself for not taking the Slytherin's hand in friendship on the train way back in first year. It would have saved him a lot of pain and the misery of questioning the true motives of his 'friends'.

Harry had just turned on his side, hugging his pillow and stuffed dog to himself in an effort to finally fall asleep, when he heard a grunt from his left and felt someone fetch up against him. Immediately long arms were wrapped around him and Harry cracked one eye open to find Professor Snape curled up against him, fast asleep. The Potion's Master had shown up late in the evening, hanging on the fringes to avoid the more outrageous activities, dutifully taking up his spot on Draco's other side with his sleeping bag when Tom had called lights out. Draco, who had been sleeping on Harry's left was now sitting up and staring at the two of them in amusement.

"Looks like you're his pillow tonight." There was laughter in Draco's soft voice. "Severus will never admit it but he's a real cuddler, that's why he sleeps next to me. Since I'm his godson there's never an issue come morning, but tonight he just rolled right over me and into you. I think you're stuck with him."

Harry looked apprehensively at his professor and whispered back. "He's going to kill me come morning, isn't he?"

Draco shrugged. "If he wakes up first he'll probably just sneak off like usual. If not—well, you can't do anything about it now. Just try and get some sleep, you can think of him as an extra big stuffed animal if that helps any."

Harry groaned but lay his head back down as Draco had suggested, his little movements had caused Professor Snape's arms to tighten about him as if afraid he was trying to escape. After a bit Harry reluctantly admitted to himself that being cuddled like this was actually a lot more comfortable than he had ever expected and he found himself relaxing enough to drift off when Snape continued to sleep on.

Unconsciously during the night both Harry and Severus shifted in their sleep so that Severus' head was on Harry's pillow and Harry was laying his cheek on Severus' chest, his sleep further lulled by the beating of Severus' heart. No one, especially not the entwined pair, woke when a softly smiling Tom tiptoed through the hall and snapped off a few pictures of Harry and Severus with the last of the film he had been using to capture evidence of the earlier dares for a scrapbook. To Tom's mind this had been the most successful sleepover yet.

… … … … …

Harry woke as Severus stirred the next morning and immediately set to feigning sleep, holding himself as limp and still as possible while forcing his breaths to stay even despite the need to laugh.

"Shit shit shit."

Severus was cursing softly, attempted to unwrap them and then freezing suddenly as if afraid the movement he had just made would wake Harry. Harry was really tempted to just open his eyes and admit that he was awake when Professor Snape accidentally hit him in the face with his own arm—how had they gotten so tangled anyhow?—but he valued his life a little too much for that. A few gropes later on both their parts, though Harry wasn't sure his could be counted as a grope considering his hand had just fallen limply onto Snape's crotch as he pretended to sleep, and Severus was free allowing Harry to finally stop panicking on how he was starting to feel aroused at being so manhandled by his professor.

Harry continued to pretend to stay asleep as he heard Severus step over Draco to gather up his possessions, but apparently Draco was a light sleeper.

"Did you have a good night Severus?" Draco asked innocently.

"If you say a word—" Severus threatened. "Thank Merlin that boy sleeps like the dead. I thought for sure I had woken him at least once."

"Oh that would have been amusing." There was hidden laughter in Draco's voice; he knew Harry was a light sleeper. "The Boy-who-lived wakes up to find he spent the night cuddled against his Potion's Professor."

Severus snorted sarcastically. "Yes, I'm sure he'd take it very well. I will see you back at Hogwarts, Draco, but if I find you have breathed a word about last night I will personally see to your having detention for at least the next month."

A few minutes later Harry felt Draco's hand nudge his shoulder. "It's okay, he's gone now. You can stop pretending to sleep."

Harry cracked an eye open, glanced at Draco, and together the two boys started to laugh. Their laughter eventually woke the others in the room and motions were made involving breakfast. It wasn't until Harry and Draco were set with a portkey to take them back to Hogwarts, their story was to be that Draco had discovered and rescued the now-disheveled looking Harry, that Tom slipped Harry the envelope.

"To remember the evening by." Tom said before he swept away, not looking back lest the two boys see the grin on his face.

Confused Harry opened the envelope. Inside was a picture of himself and Severus curled up around each other fast asleep with soft smiles on both their faces.

* * *

Posted On: October 6, 2008


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